Boring-ology: A happy tedium

RAIN clouds roll ominously overhead, the wind plasters my hair across my face and I wonder what I have done to deserve this. I am slowly sinking into a muddy field just outside the Welsh seaside town of Aberystwyth. I have tied plastic bags round my feet to keep my shoes clean. I am cold, tired and, to be honest, a little bit bored. But that's the point: this is the first stop in my quest to find the most boring thing on Earth.

From the warmth and comfort of the New Scientist office, it all sounded like a bit of light-hearted fun. Just how tedious is watching paint dry? Does ditchwater deserve its dreary reputation? How I laughed when some smarty-pants called it boringology. Little did I know that I would be the one to draw the short straw, but here I am, in a field at the Institute ...

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